


Compulsions

by Anonymous



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bullying, Compulsions, Depression, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, OCD, Obsessions, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Self-Harm, Shipping, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 20:19:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5429465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off of a prompt about OCD!Kankri. TW: Mental breakdown, self-harm, depression, anxiety, and suicidal actions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Compulsions

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [homestuck_meme](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/homestuck_meme) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
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> I would love to see something about OCD!Kankri. I may write this myself, but more of these aren't a bad thing so go right ahead. I'm going to ask that if yo do choose this prompt, please do your research, as OCD is often misrepresented. Ships are up to you, but keep it PG please.

Kankri grimaced when the feeling returned. An internal voice told him that, now, after he had stepped with his left foot, he had to step an equal distance with his right foot. The same happened whenever he touched something with one hand, as he immediately had to touch it with the other. Anxious thoughts plagued his mind and distracted him from his lectures. He soon began to withdraw into his hive, the only place he felt safe. And it seemed like no one cared. He had even heard Mituna praise his withdrawl, and the lack of lecturing that came with it, as he stood at his window and silently watched his friends, thinking that he could not go and join them. And, so, he did not.

As time passed, it seemed more and more like his friends had forgotten him as he slipped deeper into the recesses of his mind. The thoughts had gotten worse, causing him to forgo eating for sitting in a state of catatonia. Sometimes, it got so bad that he couldn't help but cry. He wanted, desperately, to rejoin the only people that he felt safe around, but, the dark, echoing, obsessive thoughts regulated his actions like he was an infantryman and they a drill sergeant. He now had established taboos. He could not touch a certain thing without having to wash his hands afterwards, and had only one place in his hive that he felt he could be safe. He had now completely forgotten the habit of eating.

As the thoughts continued to worsen, he turned to an alternative for his daily regimens. It was easy enough to pry the blades from his razor, and easier still to use them to draw lines of blood on his arms. He grew to love the feeling of the razor sliding across his skin, leaving crimson lacerations. The blood dripped onto his floor, staining it. He didn't care. The only thing that mattered to him now was the sweet, momentary relief that the razor blade brought. When candy red blood coated his bed and it ached to breathe, lest move in the slightest, his compulsions convinced him that he had to clean himself somehow. Fearfully, not abiding the pain, he arose and walked to the absolution trap. The water stung, and he found the constant pain made it easier to take his mind off of the thoughts that bothered him.

Three days, two more showers, and one hell of a lot of cuts later, his doorbell rung. As he kept silent to avoid confrontation, he could hear Cronus' voice calling for him. Thankfully, the one and only door to his hive was latched shut. As Cronus' voice left the exterior of his hive, a thought that had been there for days resurfaced. He had dismissed it before, the remainder of his sanity labeling the entire topic unsavory, but, now, he accepted it. He began his work by slicing through each and every existing cut. He then started to create new marks across his pallid gray skin, aiming for double the amount of cuts. He had only barely succeeded as he heard the return of Cronus' voice, accompanied this time by Porrim's. As he lost consciousness, he heard the sound of the door breaking open, and then, he was gone.

Porrim scrambled up the stairs to Kankri's respite block, Cronus trailing closely behind. No one had seen Kankri in weeks, and Cronus volunteered to check on him. When Kankri did not answer, he rushed to tell Porrim, who then brought him along to infiltrate Kankri's hive. She threw open the door and uttered a light shriek as she saw the interior. Kankri lay on his bed, wearing only his underwear, razor in hand. Cuts pockmarked his skin, and the floor and bed were completely drenched in blood. She ran to Kankri's side and shook him, already knowing that she would not receive an answer. Cronus gasped aloud as he saw the amount of Kankri's blood splattered on the interior of the respite block. " Cronus," Porrim cried, "Run, get the bandages, he might bleed o+ut if we do+n't sto+p the bleeding so+o+n."

"Vwhat happened?" "It appears that he tried to+ kill himself." And with that, Cronus Ampora sprinted out of the hive, in a desperate attempt to save his dying flushcrush. Everyone else could care less, and had moved on to their own duties. No one noticed Cronus' wild dash. He quickly found the first aid supplies, as Kankri himself had insisted that all of the dancestors in that particular dreambubble memorize its location. Soon, he brought them to Porrim, who had already used Kankri's sheets to fashion a makeshift tourniquet in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. The two expediently treated the wounds with the troll equivalent of Neosporin, then wrapped him like a mummy in bandages, tight enough to halt the gush of blood from the open wounds. They carried him to his couch, as it was thankfully free of mutant blood, and placed him there, gently.

While Porrim cared for him in the hope that he would regain consciousness, Cornus held an emergency meeting where he announced what they had found. He wouldn't have done it of his own volition, but Porrim had insisted. It was hard to force the words out of his lips, as he wished that he could have been there to protect Kankri. As soon as the statement had been heard, a terrible silence fell about the room. None of the dancestors responded, and all were quick to excuse themselves from the meeting, each inwardly denying that this particular predicament had been their fault. As the days passed, no one except Porrim and Cronus came by Kankri's hive to see or care for him. It took four days for Kankri to regain consciousness, and the first thing that he saw was Cronus' face above his. "W-what," he muttered, as Cronus placed a kiss onto his forehead. "Am I-I dead? What's going on?" "You hurt yourself badly, and vwe vwere there to take care of you," was Cronus's reply. Kankri gasped as the memories of what he had done came rushing back to him in a sudden pang of realization. He then proceeded to burst into tears. Cronus did the best he could to comfort the sobbing troll.

Two Months Later

Kankri and Cronus sat together at the table, enjoying their dinner. The two had become matespirits nearly two months prior, when Kankri had finally regained some semblance of wit. With Cronus there to talk to, his OCD had improved greatly. And, as it turned out, Cronus was quite excellent at using confident reassurances to banish Kankri's recurring anxieties. Kankri had moved into Cronus' hive, with bloodstains that had yet to be removed covering his respite block walls and floor. His bed had required burning. And, as this story ends, Kankri is recovering and learning to deal with his obsessions and compulsions in a safe environment. If you have experienced any of the symptoms described here, such as incessant stress, compulsive actions (If I do this, then I must do this), feeling needed to complete equal actions with each side of your body, wanting to hurt/kill yourself to relieve your anxiety, within the past month, please talk to your parents, ask to see a psychiatrist, and know that it will get better, just like in this story.


End file.
